Trace Of Obsession
by DaemonSyndrome
Summary: As time counts down to when Orochimaru must seize Sasuke's body as his new host, the raven takes it upon himself to possess the serpent's body in nightly routine visits that should have ended the moment they began. SasuOro -rated M to be safe-


Disclaimer: all credits belong to Masashi Kishimoto, the creator of Naruto.

Summary: as time counts down to when Orochimaru must seize Sasuke's body as his new host, the raven takes it upon himself to possess the serpent's body in nightly routine visits that should have ended the minute they began.

Status: on-going (hopefully), edited

Accepts: reviews, flames, suggestions, and witty comments.

Pairing: Uchiha Sasuke/Orochimaru

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_"It's a bad obsession, and you're always messin' up my mind.."_

**+ Trace Of Obsession +**

Shadows parade across the walls, dancing away from the gentle burn of candles lit around the room. Dark creatures form in the blackness, shapeless and deformed characters acting out frightening scenes along the walls. Each mindless shift of movement unto the demand of those flickering candles leaving an eerie message in their own distinct language.

In observation of the blackened dance of phantoms and perhaps lingering souls haunting in their unspoken revenge, amber hues glare silently while waiting patiently. Sitting partly beneath black sheets, leaning a painfully curved back against the headboard, the owner of those special hues grips tightly at the covers with pallid hands. The time grows near, the time when seemingly unnoticable footsteps will jounrey towards the serpent's chambers and carry out an act that should have only been a one time affair.

Anticipation, twisting with resistant fear, causes shivers to course up the pale spine hidden underneath simple purple pajamas with white snake patterns. _Ten mintues to go._ The patient man thinks wordlessly, while lifting a trembling hand to trail through long ebony locks. As the months drift by he grows weaker and more vulnerable, which he knows the one coming for him is quite aware of. Eyes like a serpent's jerk towards the door suddenly, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as a small rodent squeaks and scurries away in terror.

_Five more minutes._ A raspy cough breaks free of the silence, an agonized sound as the action squeezes painfully at the unrightful form of a stolen body. Soon the masked vessel would completely reject it's demanding possesser. Only a matter of time, which continues to slowly run out. _Two more minutes._ Would death be arriving this night, or something sensually agonizing? Inside the fully knowledgeable mind, there is no doubt which will be coming to greet him...just like the previous visit and all those prior. It has become a gripping routine, a pattern that should be destroyed yet he refuses to admit he has no control over what happens.

Merely a sinlge lasting minute remains, and the telltale signs of his emotionless visitor will appear. By now the constant scenerio is probably no more than a compelling game, a battle already lost for dominance. A means of leaving the scars of a reminder etched within his sickly form of just who will surpass him, and who holds the true seeds of control between them. It is a simply act of relieving frustration and pent up agression in the most deviodly passionate of interactions between two starved and needy individuals. But something so bluntly enticing, so properly resisted against, should have never happened. Yet, once those swirling crimson hues settle on a course of proceedings there is no escaping them until their owner is pompously satisfied.

Glancing up towards the clock, serpentine golden orbs follow the quiet ticking of the hand on the clock's face. _5-4-3-2-1...0._ In an instance everything freezes in utter silence. Nothing moves, nothing disrupts the sudden lack of sound, even the beat of his heart can no longer be heard in the deaf atmosphere. Along the walls the shadows have ceased in their black parade to turn their attention towards the door, their shapeless bodies fusing together in one massive collection of ebony. Nearby a once dancing and flickering candle fizzles out by the breeze of an unseen or felt wind, one obviously housing an omnious property.

The snake master gazes intently as the clock hand switches to twenty-one mintues after midnight. Breaking the silence, the man sighs out in relief or exasperation he would never admit to because of his pride. After all the waiting and irritating anticipation, the one he waits for dares to be late and perhaps to be blatantly abandoning him. Why should he be bothered though? These visits were not of his choosing, nor did he draw much pleasure from it. In those demeaning eyes he is no more than a trapped body, struggling against a raven yet only to amuse and satisfy the other even more than if he plainly laid back submissively.

It is merely a reminder of the game he is losing in humiliation. No amount of tricks and clever words could release him from the binds of those powerful hands, trained and ready by his own efforts. If this body would only agree to serve him without trouble then he would be able to fight properly against those damnable advances, yet things were already progressing too quickly in opposition to him. Whether he could stand to bite back his own frustrations and confress to it or continue to deny it, the serpent's body has already revealed far too much. Every forceful caress, narrowed demand from those crimsom hues, or sadistic whispered authority from those taunting lips, already has him succumbing to the selfish desires of the raven devouring him night after night. It should end, yet—

**"Hebi-chan..."**

The serpent's pallid form curls tighter in annoyance upon hearing the degrading nickname, another detestable quirk to remind him who dominates over him in these private moments. Lifting his amber hues in a threatening glare, the weak form of the sickly man manuvers into a straighter position against the headboard in an expert mask of the bodily aches burning at his muscles. Aches from the dire need to switch hosts isn't the only pain holding him bound to the bed at the moment, another lesser known discomfort persists from the violence of the night before, or early morning rather, when this smug bastard before him manifested to pin him down.

In response to the murderous look being directed towards him, the raven smirks at his prey and crosses the room to seat himself on the serpent's bed. Underneath he can easily feel the sudden tremble seemingly masked by the serpent, then the movement stills abruptly leaving him grinning wider in acknowledgement. Could it be anticipation or fear? Either way Sasuke could not help feeling eager to torment the serpent inches from him, doing so has become quite the masochistic fascination. He simply couldn't stop yearning to see those twisted feature betray Orochimaru's normal sense of control in a moment of esctasy. The thrill was nearly the greatest comeback.

Besides, even if he loathes the man with an animalistic passion, there is something to be appreciated about that pale form. From those silken locks so easily yanked and twisted in his grasp to those glowing amber hues transformed into spears of glinting malice and deception, he has begun to get addicted and possibly possessive. Black hues also can't get enough of marring the natural beauty of the effeminate body, so flawless and so tempting until his hands had their way. It would be his greatest pleasure to break the pale serpent, to murder the intensiy in those dangerous orbs, yet as long as he can still use Orochimaru...destroying him would have to wait. In the mean time, sampling all the quirks of abusing the vulnerability of this stolen body would have to do in sating his urges.

Reaching out with powerful hands, snow white wrists are bound and seized to be pinned on the bed without further time being wasted. The raven already sacrificed three extra minutes to trifle with the serpent's mind as a cruel joke. Obviously he knows the other will wait up for him, even yearn for him unconsciously, and then bluntly deny it all for pride's sake. However, the best triumph comes in the unexpected, in occasionally changing the normal routine of arriving at exactly twenty after midnight to give Orochimaru the slight hope and unspoken disappointment in believing that he may escape his clutches for one night.

Seeing those undone expressions on the serpent's unguarded features under his ministrations were truly beginning to provide him with the insight into reading into the supressed truth hiding behind all those clever lies. Orochimaru could actually be partially bi-polar when it comes to submitting to his innermost desires, though this is only witnessed when the serpent loses control in a situation to a most hated individual and is reduced to complaining in savagely biting remarks as he bides away the time until an appropriate vengeful idea grasps that scheming mind.

Nevertheless, he is the only one who will ever witness such a phenominon because he is the sole individual that the serpent would never admit to desiring beyond seeking his body for his special eyes. The bi-polar tendency only arises because Orochimaru hates to be dominated by him, by his crimson hues, and unable to have any grounding in the situation, all control belongs to the raven alone, and yet Orochimaru craves the lack of ascendancy like a forbidden fruit or ashamed weakness renouncing to linger disregarded.

Just as the serpent quivers at the reminder of his sharingan eyes, the raven would also make him tremble at the relase of secret cravings fighting to be unchained. Once this body and mind are broken and reduced to carnal desires there would be no reason to be cautious of what lies in store in their future showdown, because he will has already made Orochimaru dependent upon him completely. His pitiful Hebi-chan might even succumb to loving him, then there would be no turning back. In that instant he will have triumphed in the expert mental chess game between them.

Widely grinning down at his restrained glowering beauty, Sasuke leans down mere inches from that twisted mouth, housing that deceptive tongue. Parting his lips, the raven trails a demanding tongue across the defiant curves in an unspoken dare for the serpent to bite him. Pearly white fangs are beared in warning but no painful nip or smartass retort comes in answer to his tasting of soon to be captured lips. Orochimaru is becoming more tame as time goes by, it's quite amusing really when inside he knows that enduring mind is defiantly scheming revenge unattainable. It's true to the serpent's character even if pointless.

**You're fooling no one, Hebi-chan, or is this sought out revenge because I made you wait? ...Don't worry, I won't make you wait any longer.**

(to be continued)


End file.
